


A Gift Well Deserved

by Shaleene



Series: Darrek Cousland [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:26:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleene/pseuds/Shaleene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heh, don't hate me! Contest piece "Giving a gift" On DevArt. Auish Darrek</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift Well Deserved

We are missing three.” Sten said as he set his sword on the table before taking his seat.

 

“Alistair, Veena, and Leske are out patrolling.” Darrek said distractedly as he twisted a dagger in his hand, the tip of it digging a hole in the oversized throne chair's arm. It was one of Eamon's favorite custom chairs made of wood from Seheron or something. Not that that mattered much to Darrek, he never did like such chairs to begin with, only worse when they belonged to pompous windbags like the Arl.

 

“Is it wise to keep them out of the conversation?” Rhiordan asked as he too took his place at the table, the chair closest to Darrek.

 

“I will fill in those who need to know later.” Darrek replied as he watched the wardens, old and new, file into the room. The newest all still looked pretty green from their joining, which had only been two days past. He remembered all too well that feeling of waking up after drinking the vile concoction. The sacrifices he and six others had made that day. He and four others had survived the joining, and the slaughter at Ostagar. Their five were now nearly a dozen, and still no where near the numbers they required for the battle ahead.

 

It was Rhiordan who took the floor first once all the wardens were in the room and the doors shut behind them. It was a lot of the same thing Darrek had heard weeks before, when he and the elder warden locked themselves in the study for more then ten hours. Darrek had become quieter after that chat, his mind on the impending battle ahead and what that meant for his own future.... Or lack there of. He had no fear of what was to come, his mind was on those who would be most effected should the worst come to pass. Anora would be left to marry whatever noble managed to survive, leaving Ferelden in the hands of a possible dimwit like Alistair. Losing Ferelden to Orlais again do to stupidity seemed a worse fate then losing to the Archdemon.

 

“Ser!” Leske suddenly yelled as he burst into the room, pulling everyone’s attention including Darrek's. “Sorry Ser, but think ya should know.” Leske trotted across the room and leaned in close to Darrek. He spoke in tones only the Commander could hear, but the look that crossed the Ash Warrior's face told the rest the new he was receiving was not something he wanted to hear.

 

“You're sure.” Darrek asked as he glared at Leske who, wisely, took a few steps back.

 

“Aye, seen it m'self. Well not THAT part but I seen 'im go in. And then awhile later, come back out. Shame written across his face like a ignorance on a noble.”

 

“Arrogance.” Darrek corrected absently. Though in hindsight ignorance was pretty accurate for several nobles in Denerim and Amaranthine. Darrek stood quickly, the two dogs who had been napping in the corner suddenly wide awake as they moved to follow the very agitated warrior who moved quickly out of the room and down the hall. The rest of the wardens all looked at each other then moved as well, each grabbing their respected weapons and following their Commander.

 

Darrek turned and ducked into his room for a moment, trading his own twin blades for one very large claymore. Not as big as Sten's but still bigger then most would dare try to wield. He then headed toward the hall reserved for the rest of his party, wardens and non wardens alike. The largest room at the end of the hall was the one holding his target, the last heir of the Therin bloodline. He kicked the door in and watched as the two near naked bodies tumbled out of bed.

 

“Darrek! Wha..... What's going on?!” Alistair asked as he tried to detangle himself from the blankets and gain his feet.

 

Darrek stepped into the room and waited only a few seconds before he swung the door closed behind him. “You're suppose to be on patrol.” He said as his hand gripped the sword painfully tight.

 

“I...err..well...I was.... ya know I....” Alistair stumbled over his words as he tried to come up with an excuse. Darrek moved quickly, grabbing the Templar by the throat and slamming him violently up against the wall.

 

“You have disobeyed my orders.”  
  


“Hey! Take your hands off of him!” Leliana barked as she reached for her dagger on the bedside table. She had her hand on the hilt of the weapon before she froze, feeling the keen edge of a blade against her throat. She swallowed loudly as she slowly removed her hand from the weapon.

 

Darrek turned his glare to the woman and the Antivan who now stood behind her. “Your usefulness, what little there was, has reached it's end.” Darrek said and grinned when the look of shock crossed the bard's face.

 

“You know....” Zevran whispered in her ear as he ran the fingers of his free hand through her hair and pulled her head back painfully. “None of your late night missives ever made it out of Ferelden, We've known all along. A quick clean death is far more then you deserve.” He smiled when he heard the woman's breath catch in her throat, then pulled his blade across her throat.

 

Darrek turned his attention once again back to the panic stricken Templar who started yelling and cursing the Ash Warrior's name, only to be cut off when Darrek's fingers squeezed his throat. “You have Disobeyed my orders, betrayed the wardens, betrayed Thedas...” He leaned closer clenching his jaws until he was less then an inch away from the other man's face. “You have betrayed Ferelden.” He finished through clenched teeth.

 

Alistair tried to choke something out as he clawed at the other man's fingers. Darrek let up just enough for the man to drag air into his lungs and speak. “You can't do anything to me.” He said in a strained voice. “Eamon will have your head for this! I am the last of the Therins! This...” He gagged as Darrek squeezed the Templar's windpipe again.

 

“I am willing to take that bet.” Darrek said as he stepped back and raised the sword. “I spared you during the Landsmeet, I will not be so kind this time. You Alistair Therin have committed high treason. You have betrayed your country and her people. You have potentially unleashed the greatest horror the known world has ever seen and for that you will die. May the maker show you mercy Therin.” Darrek said as he let go of the Templar's throat and with both hand thrust the blade forward and into the other man's gut.

 

..~~

 

“What is going on here?!” Arl Eamon asked as he was stopped at the end of the hallway by two snarling War hounds and a smirking Dwarf.

 

“Warden business ol' man. Why don'cha turn around an' git gone.” Sheelite said as she waved one hand at the man, shooing him away.

 

“I will not stand for this! This is my estate and you are all guests here. You will let me pass.”  
  
“Well, then I unofficially con..conder....condenskate the hall. This is Warden territory now.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Listen little girl. You don't want to play this game with me. It tends to end up with the headsmen earning a new pair of boots. Now stand aside.”  
  
“No can do grampa. Commander scare me a bit more'n you do.”  
  
“Listen you ....”  
  
Just then Alistair's door opened pulling the attention of everyone in the hall. Zevran was the first to walk out, stepping to one side of the door as he sheathed his blade. The look on his face told the rest the conversation that took place within did not end in any sort of compromise. A moment later Darrek stepped out, his face and tunic thoroughly splattered in blood, the blade in his right hand soaked and dripping on the expensive Orlesian rug. Darrek turned and held the blade out to Sten who took it with a frown. “Needs a sharper edge.” He said then turned and headed down the hall toward the arl.

 

Darrek saw the look on the Arl's face, it was almost enough to make the warrior smile. He hadn't planned on Eamon seeing this, but all the better that he had shown up in time. Perhaps now the Arl would keep his nose out of their business, and his idiotic opinions to himself.

 

“What..... what have you …....” Eamon couldn't finish as he stared stunned at Darrek's left hand.

 

“My job. Perhaps someday you might try it.” He answered as he pushed past the man and turned to the dogs. “Happy Winter's End you two.” he said and tossed two heads down the hall for the war hounds to chase.

 

“Ya know.” Sheelite said as she stepped up next to Eamon watching as the dogs each took a head in their mouth and ran off with their new toys. “I think th' Commander spoils them two.” She snorted then followed the rest of the wardens back toward the meeting room.  


End file.
